Unlucky Traveller
by turnindrin
Summary: Movieverse interpretation of the parentage of the eight-legged horse Sleipnir, LokixSvaðilfari.
1. The soul has illusions

Unlucky Traveller

1. The soul has illusions as the bird has wings.

The wind danced along the waters edge, cooling the riverbank and glowing meadows beyond. A sweetened tang travelled across the yellow terrain, a faint mingle of flowers, fertility and idleness. The trickster loosened his lips and with one agile strike of his pointed tongue, sipped the afternoon air. Nature flowed much in the same twine as magick, Loki was able to decipher both with tremendous ease. Something would alight within him. It would gradually gather force and surge eagerly throughout the trickster until it rendered him ridge, bewitched by his own power. Then the answers would come.

Each exposure rekindled his initial excitement and often prompted Loki to behave frivolously with his innate abilities. Yet it frightened him into caution at the same time. No one knew the full extent of his magick. The hard part was letting go. It was a slow and sorrowing procedure that left him feeling deflated and occasionally nauseous. He paused, awaiting his mind and stomach to settle.

It was Gaukmanudhr, too early for spring to have ripened, but it would soon and this year it would be unpleasant in both length and temperature. Unmindful Loki touched his high collar, the humid seasons did not agree with him anymore then they did his wardrobe.

Nevertheless a smile played upon his compressed mouth. At best his dim-witted elder brother and his insufferable cohorts would be otherwise occupied with the numerous hunting parties, tournaments and general gallivanting around that the season always seemed to call for, to be concerned with pestering the younger princeling. At the height of the spring activities, Loki could disappear for days at a time and never be missed. The breeze lightly stirred his wispy hair as his keen eyes darted over the quiet pastures. Loki relished the undisturbed solitude that the glades provided. The opportunity to sit and think and simply be without constant reprimand for being surly and sour-faced was something of a luxury in the realm of Asgard. One he treasured deeply and was determined to keep. During his late teens, Loki had developed a peculiar desire for self-dependence and isolation, a concept entirely alien to the Aesir. Now a little older, his private nature asserted itself much more frequently and Loki spend most of his time alone, typically within his living quarters or the library through both sanctums were easily invaded by his overbearing brother.

Resting with his back against a sturdy oak tree upon a slight mound, his position gave Loki the clear advantage from all angles. He sat confidently with his elbow propped on his raised knee, pouring over a thick leather bound grimorie open in his lap. Three more hefty textbooks were untouched to the left of him. Advanced transmogrification demanded a level of concentration that Loki currently lacked. It was his express desire to master shape-shifting by the coming winter and at present his skill was excruciatingly limited. Now in between his fingertips, the black ink was starting to merge into the rough pages. His eyelids drooped and he allowed the bulky book to slide shut. In a rather haughty demeanour, Loki stretched out his long legs and let one crossed the other. The warmth enveloped him and shortly Loki was dosing softly under the cloudless sky.

The trickster drifted aimlessly for barely an hour before there came a rusting from the forest clearing as the streak of pure silver crashed through the low thicket. Some distance from the sleeping prince, the creature motioned forward to survey the landscape and then took a leisured trot towards the nearing stream with some anticipation. Lowering his neck to drink with a vigorous craving, the cold water cut the heat blissfully and the creature's dark eyes glinted with satisfaction. With his thirst quenched, the stallion reared and flicked back his eminent mane to release a stringent neigh skyward. Svaðilfari was appeased for the moment.

Throughout the nine realms there were many stories concerning Svaðilfari, the legendary stallion, some were common knowledge but most had passed out of recollection. Only Svaðilfari remembered them all candidly. He saw no reason why not; they were always so complementary towards him. In particular he enjoyed the stories which embellished his speed, strength and cunning the most. It seemed the Aesir preferred to portray him as close to invincible as possible in their candlelit tales as so to explain their dismal failure at claiming him. The last attempt had come at the hands of their overzealous young prince, Odin Borson. Svaðilfari made a sound close to a chuckle, the same noise he had made upon learning Odin had become King of Asgard. Borson was brash, pompous and foolish, a strapping example of Asgardian leadership. Yet it was a horse who had schooled Borson in humility.

It was then Svaðilfari sensed he was not alone.

The stallion spun on his heels, preparing either to charge or to flee from the potential threat, whatever it might be. In his current supercilious fuelled state, the former was the most likely. It had been a while since Svaðilfari had engaged in an opponent. It had been a while since there had been an opponent to engage. The creature pondered whether he had fallen into legend more so then he would have liked. Vanity would be the death of him.

Svaðilfari turned to study the terrain with his sharp sight but found nothing amiss. He then reached out with his mind and wielded more success. A deep-seated power flowed across him like an incessant tide rushing against an anchor. Bearing his teeth, the creature pushed back gingerly, attempting to trigger the owner into revealing his location. When no change to the magick current came, Svaðilfari decided to take the risk and gauged the distance between him and this very curious entity.

Approaching the lifeless trickster, Svaðilfari steadied his trot. Mechanically he dropped his head and peered down at the smaller creature sedulously. From the clean cut and well sown garments, the delicately embroidered outer coat and earth coloured breeches, Svaðilfari concluded that this one was an Asgardian of noble birth. Through fashioned as a lord, his physique did not resemble that of his kin. His build was much slighter and leaner, his muscles were slender and his limbs lankier. The stallion imagined this one was much swifter and more agile than his bulky, knuckle-headed brethren. Turning his attention to the youths latent face, Svaðilfari noted it's uncharacteristic pointiest. Heavily outlined by raven tresses, his pure white skin looked as if it had never seen the sun's light. Svaðilfari could not look pass those dark curls, uncommonly so for an Aesir. No, this creature was too refined, too diminutive to be one of those barbarians. And yet Svaðilfari was more than aware of Asgardian pride, interbreeding would never be permitted, nor would a half-breed bastard be granted such high status. Clearly there was more to this little one than what met the eye.

The stallion arched back his head. Whatever the small one was, he was intriguing. Probably unrecognised by the Aesir, there was an attractiveness that seemed to transverse boundaries. It was almost a shame their species were so different, Svaðilfari began to muse at what a fine companion the small one would make. Such an outlandish thought and yet Svaðilfari was already enticed. How ever much the stallion appreciated his freedom, he could not deny his lonesomeness. Other horses were incompatible, possessing neither the intelligence nor the stamina to satisfy the mighty steed. Ordinary horses were inferior creatures. Svaðilfari was the only of his kind, whatever his kind was. He had long since resigned himself to a life of loneliness.

_Only to stumble upon you…_Svaðilfari panted, he felt overwhelmed. His fascination only served to heighten his longing. _You shouldn't be so quick to delude yourself. This is not to be. _Reason spoke with an ugly voice. The creature was Asgardian, if not by lineage than by culture. Svaðilfari knew he would never be regarded as an equal and he was a beast with no master.

With a causal nod, the stallion noticed the mount of grimories and felt pained at how suited they were. _Transmogrification, I could certainly teach you a trick or two…_

Loki let out a soft moan and stirred quietly. His deep green eyes popped open and magnified. Svaðilfari was riveted at how intensely they shimmered, drawing in focus. How exquisite set against the white backdrop and raven curtains. A bewildered expression was imprinted across his limber features, as Loki scrambled to his feet, he gave a strange gasp. Fully animated, the deal was sealed. Svaðilfari formulated his next move.

"What do we have here?" Visibly thrilled, the moment stretched on without a response. The trickster wracked his brain for the name of the stallion that had appeared often in the adventures Odin had regaled him and Thor as children. It did not come to him immediately but when it did, it simply rolled off his tongue.

"To lay eyes on Svaðilfari would pass only in a fleeting glaze," Loki restated, daring not to let go of his breathe. Already he had accomplished a feat that had surpassed his Father. A tremor of excitement sent his skin aflame. Something Odin had never achieved, something Thor had never achieved, now stood calmly before him. Loki licked his lips in anticipation and prepared to approach the stallion with extreme vigilance. Somehow he would have to capture Svaðilfari without startling him. The trickster's mind became a whirlwind of possibilities only to fall blank as the horse simply walked right up to him and began nuzzling his dark curls.

Astonished Loki felt his mouth slip ajar. "Well, aren't you… affectionate," Could this really be Svaðilfari? Couldn't there be other large, silver steeds roaming the fields of Asgard? How could _he_ have succeeded in a task that had eluded the All-Father? Loki sighed diminished and disappointed. Nevertheless he raised a hand to give the creature a strong pat to its broad neck. Without warning the ground was pulled from under him. Loki jerked backwards, realizing that his body had already smacked into the earth before he could prevent it. The world continued to spin, faster and faster until the sky merged with the land and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

**Notes: According to my 'How to be a Viking' book Svaðilfari means 'unlucky traveller' and Gaukmanudhr refers to April.**


	2. A loving heart is the beginning

2. A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.

In the dark, sedated cavern deeply secluded from the hostile environment, the mother attempted to console her newborn. Whispers of comfort bore only ear-piecing shrieks as the infant coiled his fists and thrashed with all his might as if distraught by his own existence. Inexperienced and greatly exhausted, the young giantess could take no more. She swiftly bundled him up into the thick snow bear hide and let him be.

Time passed slowly for the mother who could neither rest easy nor relent. _What can I do? What should I do? It's as if my very touch pricks him like needles. _She let out a sob and covered her face. _Oh, what should I do? _When only silence answered her, the creature instinctively jolted forward. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she took the infant into her arms; the joy to see him stare soberly back was overwhelming. As the babe accepted her and started to nurse cannily, the giantess breathed relief and gave a gratefully smile to the foredooming dark.

"My darling, my sweet little darling," She kissed the tip of his crown lightly. "Don't tease me so. Don't taunt me. You mustn't ever scare mother like that again, hear me?" Cradling her tiny offspring against her chest, he suddenly seemed so content and peaceful. He gargled happily as his sharp tongue poked out to lap up the milk running down his chin.

"Messy little thing," his mother cooed and stroked one of his slimy cheeks with her smallest finger. Memories dried quicker than tears.

Unfortunately it was this act of simply motherly affection that would prove to undo Nál. Her kind were born from the frost, their hearts were frozen to the core. There was much stated regarding the brutal practices of the Jotunn race, none as renowned as abandoning the weak or inferior at birth. Few however understood the necessity. Nál was not amongst them.

Slender for a giantess, Nál had been shunned from an early age, very nearly made destitute had it not been for her gender. Female Jotunns were rare and becoming rarer and the while Jotunheim was under threat by the war-mongering Aesir, the succession of the royal line had become a matter of importance. When they came for her, her hideous brethren, Nál feared for her life. Had they finally meant to do what they had long since promised? She sucked in her breathe, feeling dizzy when the King pronounced her consort to his repulsive son. She was a mistress and nothing more. Her son was a bastard and a runt.

_That will change. _Nál assured herself and turned to her noisy son, slurping away. _I am the only female in court, perhaps the realm. I have produced a son, a small son, but a son nevertheless. He is the heir to the kingdom. So it has to change. _She felt certain that her beloved infant would be able to escape the fate that had almost been dealt her. _Laufey must recognise him. He can't afford not to, not now. Especially now. _The flicker of a smile. If not for the Aesir, she would have been left forsaken and without a son.

"A wonderful, wonderful son," Nál raised him to her face and blew kisses. When the child whimpered, Nál brought him back to her breast. She beamed and gazed skyward. _I will never be able to stop smiling. Never. _

Laufey descended with a monstrous roar and the entire hollow shook. Dumb struck Nál could only stretch out her arms, willing her babe to sooth his fathers rage with his beady smile. Yet this had the opposite effect. In moments Laufey was upon her, clutching his fists and pounding them against her. The halls vibrated from the savage beating. As her vision narrowed, Nál clung tighter to her son, knowing they were about to parted. _It won't be for long, my little son will be with me soon. _Laufey did not stop until Nál was long dead.

The Jotunn prince grunted and spat. "Idiot, I should have known you would have poisoned my line," He flashed a cruel grin. "You shouldn't have looked so happy nursing that putrid shrimp. I might have forgiven you." He lied. The runt continued to suckle. Mother's milk mixed with mother's blood.

Few understood the necessity but Laufey did. Strength was not prized out of vanity but compulsion. Survival in the harsh frozen regime of Jotunhiem was dependent upon resilience. It was far kinder to abandon those unable to perform at birth rather than prolong their suffering. It was out of kindness that Laufey lifted his young son and removed him from the cavern. It was what any loving father would do.

The infant howled alone on the temple floor.

000

A small youth with shaggy, sandy coloured hair and an upturned nose cast a longing look over the grounds beyond the castle's walls. In the blazing midsummer heat, the boy badly wanted to play outside rather than being cooped up indoors with his mother for company. Thor gave a great sniff as the Queen approached, accompanied by a procession of handmaids and a small dark haired baby on her hips. "Let me see, Loki will need all sorts of new items. Clothes of course, make them green like his adorable eyes, the same goes for the blankets and bedding. As for toys, I suppose Thor will have a couple of old ones lying around…"

"That's not fair! He can't have my toys!" Thor threw his wooden sword down at stone panels and tossed his chin back with his arms folded across his chest. Frigga secretly hoped that Odin would wake shortly.

With her back turned, she continued with more pressing matters than a terrible toddler. "We won't need a crib, Thor's old one will do just fine," Frigga paused to nip at Loki's exploring fingers. Her regal persona dropped as she addressed her new son. "You'll like that won't you, my dear? Sleeping in your big brother's old bed, hmm? Yes you will, won't you?" Her nimble nose rubbed his and the infant giggled hysterically.

"Urgh!" Thor stomped about. "He is not _my_ brother! He is not! I don't want him to have my things! Mother this isn't fair!"

One short nod and the maids were dismissed. Frigga perched herself on the ornate throne barely a foot from her elder son who instantly shuffled nervously under her majestic gaze. "Alright Thor, tell me what really troubles you," Loki chortled away on her lap. Thor tossed the child a heated glare.

"Him," he snapped darkly. "He is not my brother. He's… He's a goblin child!"

"Pardon me?" Frigga did her best to remain impassive. "Where in the world would you get an idea like that?"

"Sif told me so," He stuck out his lower lip. "Sif says that the goblin folk like to fool Asgardian parents into raising their offspring."

This time Frigga was not able to contain herself, her laughter was rich and warming. "Oh Thor dear, I've never heard such nonsense!"

"Mother it's the truth! Please won't you just look at him? He doesn't look like father or you! He's so scrawny and ugly and he just appeared as if from nowhere! You found him in the garden, didn't you mother? Then he's a goblin, he must be!" Thor broke off into a high-pitched wail, flapping his arms at the same time.

"Darling, Loki _is_ mine. He _is_ your father's. Therefore he _must _be your little brother. Really that's all that matters," Frigga gave a soft smile. "Beside love, goblins don't exist."

Thor slumped forwards. "If you say so," He didn't sound convinced, the boy had his father's stubbornness that was sure. Frigga beckoned her son closer. Thor pouted and placed his hands squarely on his hips. "No! Every time I come near him, he cries the palace down! He doesn't like me, mother! He doesn't want to be my brother!" Thor plunged his hands into his pockets. "Not that I care."

"Thor," Frigga gave a stern warning. Thor theatrically kicked at the air before storming towards his seated mother. Immediately Loki's face tore and he bawled strenuously. Thor threw his arms upright and glared furiously. The Queen shut her eyes briefly and prayed this sibling rivalry would come to an end. Abruptly she handed Loki over into Thor's bunched arms and carefully watched him pull a face but not refuse. "Just rock him gently darling and mind his head."

Gentle was not a term Thor was familiar with. He started to hoist Loki into the air so suddenly that the infant swallowed back his tears and began giggling excitedly. Radiating with a bust of pride, Thor swung him high above his head. "You like this, huh?" Loki blew him a raspberry.

Resting her hand upon her son's shoulder, Frigga brought herself to his level. "As our eldest son you will have many grave responsibilities Thor. Some you will enjoy but most you will find excruciatingly tedious," She gave him a sly wink. "But of all these, none is more important than him, your little brother. I expect you to be an example to Loki, there will be times when you will need to watch over him, protect him and care for him and should the occasion arise, prevent him from stepping out of line…"

"You mean _only _I get to put my hands on him?" Thor grinned boisterously.

"Well, that's not quite what I meant. I suppose you could look at it like that. But no, I don't want you beating him," Frigga sounded surprisingly cross. "No rough-housing Thor! But Loki will make mistakes and as his older brother it will be your duty to put him back on the right path. It's a big responsibility. Do you think you can do that?"

"Hmm, maybe, I suppose I can. I mean I'll try my best," Thor bit his lip. Loki reached up and entangled his tiny fingers in Thor's sun drenched tresses and blew another raspberry.

"I suppose he isn't all bad, for a goblin child."

000

His pale green eyes seemed larger by candlelight. Seated in bed with his small back arched and his knees tucked under his chin, his black hair matted over his forehead and his face a pasty white, Loki stared anxiously at his father's back. The All-Father stood in the corner of the room, supporting himself on the fireplace while discreetly speaking with the court physician. Too low for the boy to hear, yet he noticed the urgency in their movements, the anger from the All-Father and shivered. His bare toes twisted under the soft covers and Loki wished his mother was here.

At length the physician respectfully bowed his head before taking one lasting sideway glance at the prince before sweeping out of sight. Odin wiped his broad brow with his hand and turned to face his extremely nervous son. "We don't have to discuss this now Loki, it can wait until morning."

Defiantly Loki flipped his head back and almost leaped out of bed. "No father, it can't wait! What's wrong with me? Tell me is it serious? Can I be mended?"

The All-Father had the blankets back around Loki before he had even finished speaking. "There is nothing to fix Loki. There is nothing wrong with you." Then he paused and seemed to ponder wistfully. "You have a gift, a rare and powerful gift. Loki, there are few born of magick and even fewer affected by it at such a tender age. It means you're a natural, my boy." Loki stared up at him with confusion. Odin wetted his lips and hinted at a smile. "Even Thor doesn't have magick. You're special." Oddly even that didn't seem to perk Loki up.

"It was all just a bad dream." The All-Father reassured him. "The physician believes it was spurred on by magick. I hear you had a fight with Thor this evening, yes? Sometimes magick can be implemented by our emotions, negative ones are especially potent. We were simply ill-prepared, that's all. Once you have learnt control there will be nothing to fear."

_Is magick something to be feared? _Loki let his lips quiver before breaking into a snivel. _I don't want to be special! I don't want to be different! I want to be like everyone else, like Thor! _As far as young Loki was concerned, Magick was not a gift. It frightened him. It was deep and strong, capable of carrying him far away. _And part of me wants to go!_ He howled deeper into the blankets. It came as a great surprise when the All-Father lifted Loki's shaking torso and embraced him tightly.

"Calm yourself my boy. Everything is alright," Odin clasped his son's tiny face and made him look up at him. "Do you believe me?"

Loki managed to choke out a yes. It was the first time he lied to the All-Father.

000

The Bond was completed.

Svaðilfari blinked and the memories came to an abrupt halt. He relaxed, panting with a full sweat, the stallion reared backwards. It was done, exactly as intended. The Bond, a connection of magick, a shared mind now existed between them. It was an old trick, an enchantment not used for centuries. There were, after all, a few complications. The pouring of essence into one another guaranteed an unbreakable Bond, but it also fuelled a battlefield between sorcerers, with the most powerful of the pairing having dominance. For now that was Svaðilfari. One day it would be Loki.

But that would not be for a long while, the stallion observed. It was astonishing how easy the Bond had been forged. Despite his impressive potential, Loki had provided no means of defence. Untrained and unskilled, he had fallen into submission right away. Svaðilfari almost sniggered. The All-Father had not provided the protection he had promised his young son. So much power left untapped, Svaðilfari had no intention of letting this sorcerer squander his unique abilities.

Still it troubled Svaðilfari that his earliest imprint should be so bleak and hopeless. It seemed fortunate that it could not be recalled without proper assistance. He decided it was better to remember buried. No child should have to know their biological Father favoured starvation and death to raising an inferior son.

His dark eyes quickly glanced over the unconscious Aesir. _No_, Svaðilfari corrected himself. Loki was not an Aesir, he was a Jotunn. The stallion could hardly believe such a union possible. Then Borson was a sly one, a fool nevertheless. Eternal peace between natural born enemies took more than Jotunn blood dressed in Asgardian finery.

The trickster lay stiff on his back, one arm hooked by his head, the other hung across his flat waist. His eyelids fluttered and his mouth was open a crook, he was murmuring something. It was a name. _Her _name. Svaðilfari bent his head low to comfort him. _Hush love, __Nál is gone now. Forget her, forget she ever existed. I'm here…_

_Loki…_

Short, sweet with a mischievous ring. Svaðilfari felt it suited him perfectly.

_Loki, wake up. It's time to return home. _The stallion gave his first command. 


	3. All actions result from thought

3. All actions result from thought, so it is thoughts that matter.

Leaping slantwise from his saddle, Thor took the open country in his wide strides. A blowing breeze lashed golden curls over his face as he approached his younger brother. On the command of his lady Mother, the thunderer had spent the better part of the afternoon attempting to locate Loki. It had been exasperating and Thor was thoroughly fed up. When he at last sighted the trickster dawdling across the plains of brown earth, Thor gave his boot hard to the mare's underbelly and charged down the slick terrain. He intended to vent his frustration with a light hearted brawl. That changed once upon his little brother.

Dazed and bewildered at the sudden collision as if it were some intrusion, Loki yawned sheepishly and stared at Thor with blank, asinine eyes. His usual scorn seemed to have been lead astray. Thor gingerly tapped his shoulder, expecting Loki to react with an insidious smirk or scowl, to spew insults or even shove Thor aside. Prepared for either responses Thor was perplexed to find his brother strangely docile. Loki was rocking back on his heels in small, neat circles. His lips parted in a faint hum. With all the wisdom Thor could muster, the thunderer swiftly extended his fist into ribcage of the trickster and watched, somewhat impressed as Loki magnificently doubled over. He hit the ground with a tidy thud. Almost immediately Loki wretched his head back and glared furiously. Awoken by the pain, his brows had distorted into a grimace. "What in the name of Hela was that for, you great, fat oaf!"

Thor beamed brightly, delighted to witness his lively brother acting more like himself. "Ah good, you are yourself then? What was the matter with you just now? Had you been dozing? I thought you were still asleep! But never mind that now. I've been searching high and low for you, ah little brother, ever the best hider in all the nine realms! You have your talents, I suppose…"

From the glower Loki was now brandishing, it was clear he was in no mood for idle banter. Thor felt his mouth flicker nervously and he wondered whether Loki would inform their mother of his prior assault. It was more likely than not. Frigga held a special, protective relationship with her youngest pup. He was her baby after all. She doted on his whims, was blind to his faults and in particular was overly defensive when it came to battles between the brothers. On occasion it bothered Thor, but then he reminded himself of their Father's pre-occupation with matters of state and succession. Then it seemed only fair that Frigga should favour Loki. And perhaps punching him was not the kind of example an elder brother should have set. As Thor silently scolded himself, Loki finished brushing the soiled stains from his lower garments. "Well oaf, what do you want? Out with it!"

"Mother sent me to find you brother. She believes Father will be revived soon, so she desires us close at hand," Thor said. "Mother did request it would be within the hour, it is much later than that now. But I am sure she is more worried than displeased. Still if you won't tell me where you've been, you will certainly have to tell Mother!"

Loki arched a single elegant eyebrow. He feared no reprisal from their Mother. "You made it sound like it was urgent. It isn't like Father will be going anywhere. Nor will the bacchanalia begin before sunset. And Mother will be so overjoyed to be reunited with Father she won't mind that I've been missing for hours,"

Thor looked thoughtful. "I suppose… Would you tell me at least where you've been hiding then? Is it somewhere magical? Could I come next time you go?" Loki sniffed at what an imagination the blunderer had.

"If you were able to find me then I obviously wasn't hiding! I was taking a pleasant stroll that is all. Where I go is my choosing,"

In dismay Thor let out a deep, defeated sigh. It wasn't right nor fair that Loki had magick at his fingertips, nor that he was able to wander into enchanted realms and have adventures for days on end. Thor frequently tried to attach himself to Loki, to follow him into these secret, magical worlds, only to bore of his brother's evasion tactics such as reading dusty volumes in dead languages. Indeed Thor certainly had an extensive imagination.

"I don't suppose you brought a stead with you because I don't feel quite like sharing," Thor cast a causal glance over his shoulder to see his prized mare nipping at some stray grass. Loki grinned a devious grin.

"I shan't need your horse brother. I have acquired my own. He said that he was hungry, that I should go on and he would catch up,"

Before Thor had time to comprehend that his brother had claimed to converse with a horse, a silver shimmer darted towards them. Thor gasped and pointed unable to suppress his excitement and disbelief. "Loki!" He boomed. "Is that what I think it is?" Like Loki he had been nursed on the legends of his Father.

The trickster whirled round with a calm complexion. "Oh yes that _is_ Svaðilfari. Don't point Thor, you're not a child! Can't you close your mouth? You'll spook him!"

Utterly dumbfounded, Thor felt like protesting that Svaðilfari didn't seem spooked. Far from it, the enormous stallion moved nonchalantly behind Loki and affectionately nuzzled the dark nape of his neck. Indifferent Loki stroked the soft silver mane and hummed once more. His mouth still hugely agape, Thor demanded he be told what trickery Loki had applied and refused to take the simple, aplomb shrug response he was given.

"Come now, you must tell me what you did! I refuse to believe that a creature so mighty, it was able to best our Father for century upon century only to hand itself over to you as you slept!" Thor drew in close. "Did you use some form of spell or forbidden sorcery? Is that why you won't tell me? You can trust me Loki, I won't tell a soul! Not even Lady Sif or the Warriors Three! You have my word!"

Loki let out a polished laugh. "Oh dear Thor, I wouldn't trust you with a secret as far as you can toss your inane hammer! But really there isn't anything more to tell." He ended soberly, hoping Thor would drop the matter. He did. Reluctantly and with a somewhat dejected look, Thor led the way back to the palace. When the citadel walls were in view, Thor abruptly came to a halt.

"Brother, you're not going to tell Mother I punched you, are you?" He chewed his lip sullenly.

In time Asgard would tell a very different sequence of events.

000

It was unfortunate for the brothers that the All-Father had not reawaken and their Mother, sorely missing her companion and concerned with the whereabouts of her children, had brewed a black cloud equal to her son's thunder. As Thor and Loki entered the lounge, they found Lady Frigga pacing tempestuously, her hands in tight balls. Frigga mellowed almost immediately and draped herself over Loki and kissed his smooth cheek. Then she rebuked him harshly for making her worry. The trickster shifted, finding her words most unpleasant, he did not allow her to finish her sentence before exaggeratedly dropping onto the sofa, clutching his stomach and complaining of the thump Thor had given him earlier. Thor thought he caught a glimmer of a smirk painted across Loki's narrow lips as Frigga set her sights on him. When they were dismissed and with little regard, Thor clouted Loki's arm.

"OUCH!" Loki dramatically seized his shoulder. "What was that for? I shall tell Mother!"

"Go on then you little weasel! Run back to Mummy, why don't you? I can't believe you told her I hit you! After you swore you wouldn't!" Thor scowled.

"I said no such thing!" Loki protested with a charming grin. He rubbed his sore arm. "What did Mother _just_ say to you? Something about not hitting me because I'm smaller, weaker and bruise more easily? I'm delicate Thor!" He laughed sweetly.

_Just because he's the favourite and he knows it! _Thor thought glumly. _He's nothing but a spoiled little Princess!_

"Thor do you think Svaðilfari will be comfortable in the stables?" Loki spoke lightly. "I mean what if he doesn't like being cooped up with so many other horses? What if he doesn't eat oats? What if he thinks I've abandoned him?" A peculiar expression, a combination of pensiveness and dread, wrinkled his face.

"Oh for goodness sake Loki, it's a horse!"

News had travelled fast and fancifully throughout the keep all the while the brothers had called upon their lady Mother. Since no one had been available to tell the original tale, it was subject to much fabrication that by the time Thor entered the banquet hall, Loki hot on his heels, the court beseeched Thor to regale them of _his_ captured of Svaðilfari. With a smug smile of satisfaction, Thor took his revenge on his little brother.

000

Soon Thor was feeling extremely remorseful.

Yet it surprised him how silent Loki remained. They were seated in a small semi-circle alongside Lady Sif, Hogun and Fandral, while Volstagg, positioned in the centre of the great hall, his backside to the roaring flames was vividly retelling the events of that afternoon as if he, himself had been there. As the courtiers clapped and cheered at the valiant of their beloved prince, Thor stole a moment to study his brother. Loki, who should have by all rights been seething at the teeth, was quietly calm and impassive as he downed his fourth glass of mead before promptly reaching for another.

Merriment erupted as Volstagg, over brimming with gusto arrived at the graphic victory over Svaðilfari, portraying the stallion as a beast so savage, so vicious, only to be bludgeoned by a single bow from the God of Thunder's mighty hammer. "And behold!" Volstagg swelled with zealous. "Svaðilfari did become a creature as meek as a new-born kitten. So much so that he did allow Thor's younger brother, our fragile prince Loki, who was out picking flowers at the time, to be carried back to Asgard!" Laughter echoed across the hall and Thor glared with anger. He disliked the stories and their tellers who had Loki acting the female roles, particularly when they concerned him. But it was this story, especially _this _story that bothered him most. Loki, on the other hand, never raised a fuss. Sometimes he would even laugh and applaud and ask for more. The trickster would never publicly take offence but then some misfortune would always befall the storyteller, something personal. Thor knew it was Loki's doing.

Fandral shrugged apathetically as Volstagg rejoined their group. "Ah, but it was much more interesting than the truth. And that is what makes a good story!" Still he turned to his friend and filled up his cup. "But perhaps next time you should have Loki doing more than simply languishing in the background,"

Volstagg felt his fat face light up. "Do you mean taken hostage by the beast? And Thor has to rescues his poor, helpless brother? Why now that would be a story! Certainly more entertaining!" With a bounce in his step, Volstagg set out to search for fresh ears for his new rendition. Thor tried to go after him but Fandral waved it away.

"Be it no concern, Thor. Not many courtiers favour Loki. By the time this new version spreads, Loki will become Sif or Amora, or some other comely princess, so indebted to you she will repay you with the most womanly of wilds. Those are my favourite stories," Fandral winked playfully at Lady Sif who proceeded to elbowed him.

"If I hear that version then I shall know who started it," She said.

Thor watched his friends laugh and his brother drink and felt like an outsider. He almost wished Loki had caused a scene. At least that way Thor could continue feeling mad at his little brother. He could feel justified in getting his own back. For that night at least.

_They're right, of course they're right. The story will inevitably change. But one think will remain the same. I will be one who slays the beast. _Thor sighed deeply, knowing that he had stolen his brother's rightful glory.

And this certainly was not how an elder brother should behave.

**Next chapter – Bow Chicka Wow Wow**


	4. Love understood as the desire of good

**It's been far too long. Finally chapter four is complete – I'm not completely satisfied, I think it's too rushed, but hey that's what comments/feedback are for! **

4. Love understood as the desire of good for another, is in fact so unnatural

It was not clear who was the more eager to flee the feast. The palace courtiers on the receiving end of the tricksters sharp tongue lashings, or the sunken mass of his elder brother, cradling his head in his open palms. Thor was visibly mortified. He vowed to never, under any circumstance, allow Loki as much as a whiff of mead again, for all the good it would do him. Loki was hopelessly inebriated. Their Lady Mother was right, the thunderer soughed lightly. Mead was the most contemptible drink that turned even the most reserved into blathering wretches. Why had he not noticed it before now? _Forget Loki, I'm never touching that vile liquid again! _

Somehow Loki had retained composure over his most reputable faculty, his words were like steel, unslurred and direct. Few might have even realised the young princeling was wholly under the influence. Their former companions, the Lady Sif and Warriors Three had bid Thor a swift goodnight shortly after Loki let loose his verbal venom and Thor was profoundly glad for it. He almost wished he had gone with them. Loki rarely appreciated his ever protective reach.

With a stiff back, Thor raised his head and found his sight glittering over the fireplace. The brothers were at odds more and more often and it saddened Thor greatly. Gone was the Loki who would fight tooth and nail for his elder brother's attention, the small, timid Loki who would obediently followed Thor around, content only to be in his presence. It was easier to understand his little brother back then, easier to care for, easier to watch over. The image of his doe eyed little brother, glazing in awe at the first time Thor managed to wretch Mjolnir an inch from the ground, fluttered into his mind. Things were much more complicated these days. Thor subdued his frustration with a taut expression. He wanted his little Loki back.

As one more flustered noble bowed low before scampering away, Thor leant inwards and whispered into his brother's ear. "The hour is late. Perhaps it is time that we adjourn, Loki,"

A threatening light shone from the trickster's emerald eyes and a crooked smile darned his slender mouth. "My dear Thor, I've only just begun to enjoy myself. But you have my permission to leave if it pleases you," He elegantly tossed his cup over his narrow shoulder and demanded more mead.

Thor sighed but persisted. "Come along now Loki. Our feasting is done for this night and you've already had more than enough. Let's retired to our chambers,"

"Will you take me to bed, Thor?" Icy fingertips trickled against Thor's knee before he had time to comprehend what was said. The thunderer practically jumped out of his skin and he tried his best to ignore the nervous sound that came from his throat. His response did not seem to deter his brother, as a spindly hand moved across his inner thigh. Thor froze.

With his fair complexion, raven black tresses and enchanting green eyes, Loki was unlike any of the Aesir, not attractive per say, but there had always been something, something that in the right light, or at the right angle would cause the thunderer to hold his breath. It was there, in that mead-soaked moment. Thor chuckled softly as he broke their shared magnetic gaze. Loki was his brother. _His. _The wide smile played on his lips. _My dear little brother, mine and always will be. _

"Take me to bed, Thor," His soft touch had become a gentle squeeze. Strands of glossy hair tumbled across his eager face. "I'd like that very much,"

"Would you indeed?" Thor mused about teasing Loki as he would a young maiden, but that would only make him testy. Thor regained himself and offering Loki a hand to rise. Loki smirked, then paused and spoiled the mood. He flopped forward onto his brother's torso and wheezed deeply. "Oh brother, I don't feel so good!"

000

Thor had poorly commented that it would easier for them both if simply flung Loki over his ample shoulders and carried him much like a sack. A foolish mistake. Thor should have known better. In response, Loki had snarled and rancorously opposed the idea on the grounds that it would be most undignified. He was a prince after all, Loki reminded his brother as he might have a servant. Thor conceded and bit his tongue from mentioning the tricksters' prior unsavoury behaviour. It had been most _unprincely. _Given his current mood, Thor thought strongly against it. Instead he wondered what in the nine realms their Mother would make of that evening. He honestly couldn't envisage. Mother was sure to hold him responsible nevertheless. Thor grimaced. Being the elder sibling was certainly tiresome.

As they continued to stagger across a deserted corridor, Loki pressed more and more of his weight onto his steadier brother, who held firm, aware that he was quickly becoming all that propped the trickster upright. It wouldn't have taken much to sweep Loki of his dwindling toes and run off with him. Thor considered the prospective deeply before deciding against it. Loki would somehow summon the strength to oppose him.

"You sure are quite dainty aren't you? Sure you're not really a maiden?" Words spilled from his tongue before Thor had time to cage them.

Unexpectedly Loki darted and sank his razor-sharp teeth into Thor's soft ear with such malice that the thunderer very nearly dropped him. "What in the name of Hel? Damn it Loki! That was completely uncalled for! I had better not be bleeding!"

"Hmm, yes, you are. Forgive me Thor," Loki licked his narrow lips and his simmering green eyes seemed to magnify. "But I will make it up to you once we're alone," Those honey-laced words made Thor feel wonderfully light-headed and giddy. His resolve was weakening.

"Be it no concern, little brother. A minor wound I'm sure," Thor gave a large, foolhardy smile, the kind that would make even the most stoic maiden quiver. "I'm more than happy to be of assistance to you. In truth I rather like having you hanging off me," _I like it when you need me. _A low chuckle escaped Loki's unhinged mouth just as Thor realised how his words could be misconstrued. Furiously he shook his head and remembered to hold his tongue. It would serve him better.

Once securely tucked away in Loki's lavish chambers, the trickster unhooked himself from around his brother's waist and stumbled into a small pile of books scattered across the floor. He stumped his foot and yelled, then fell back into the dusty piles. Thor threw his hands into the air with desperation and finally declared enough. Thor lifted Loki (with very little effort) and manoeuvred into the secluded bedchamber. Loki gave no protest, less so when Thor swiftly began stripping him. Instead he giggled enthusiastically and wigged against Thor's gruff touch.

"Slower brother, slower," His bottom lip came out. "And not so rough, slower and more seductive,"

Beguiled, Thor shook his head. "I'm not trying to seduce you, Loki. I'm trying to prepare you for bed," He moved to unbutton his dark green silk shirt.

"No!" Loki whined and puffed out his chest. "Rip it off me, ravish me brother!

Thor chortled lightly. "What fantasies you must have little brother. I thought you wanted me to go slower, now you want to be _ravished_?" He paused momentarily when his eyes met the creamy white skin of his younger brother. It was a short pause but not one that when unnoticed. Loki's slender fingers slip through Thor's much larger hands and let them rest on his flat chest, only to then coerced them to move steadily down the porcelain surface. Thor found himself obedient to his brother's silent command. His fingertips worked in small caressing circles, gilding evenly. Loki was relaxed in his breathing. He smiled serenely at his brother and encouraged him to move lower. Thor almost swallowed his own breath as he realised Loki had somehow managed to worm out of his breeches and now lay naked beneath him. He gasped, unsure of his next action, than moved expediently forwards, allowing his lips to brush up against Loki's. Loki let out a giggle and protested "Your beard tickles,"

Their eyes met once more. Loki's nimble hands were rubbing against Thor's burly arms, clutching his muscles tightly, urging them to bend. Thor drew back. "I think that's enough for tonight,"

Loki whimpered. Thor pressed a kiss into his brother's temples. "You need to rest, brother." It was easy enough to wrap a loose sheet around the trickster's limp body. Loki seemed to succumb to sleep as soon as Thor departed. Thor paused in the doorway, the thought of returning enticed him, but once more he denied himself. _ He probably won't even remember in the morning…_

000

Between the shadows a tall man slipped out into the pale shades of moonlight. His mood was dark. As he watched the great oaf exit, it darkened considerably. The unbearable thought of those filthy hands upon his beautiful mare, Svaðilfari bore his teeth and grunted in disgust.

Tenderly he drifted upon the slumbering princeling, lightly entangled within the thin bedding. Beneath lay milky skin and nothing more. Svaðilfari trembled and closed his eyes, preserving the moment, before leaving the sheets and settling beside his love. One wandering hand touched his inner tight and gilded gingerly. Loki purred and awoke, in the dim light his green eyes shimmered. Svaðilfari tightened his grip and Loki began to squirm, appearing visibly anxious. He attempted to move from the bed but was held firm by the stallion's might. Confused, Svaðilfari placed a soothing kiss upon Loki's quivering lips and urged him to speak.

"Please… don't be mad with me!" Loki cried at last. Tears cascaded.

_We are connected; him and I. _Svaðilfari sighed and dropped his head. _I have allowed my feelings to dominate his. My anger, my envy, my hatred of the thunderer and it frightens him. I frighten him. _The stallion relented and sharply coiled back his mind. _One day we shall be as one, but not quite yet. For now you need never fear me, little one… _

Moonlight lit the long silver mane of taller man, as he coaxed the smaller one into his open arms. "I'm not mad with you, little one." _I should have been here to take care of your urges. You are my mare after all._

Loki absorbed all that was told him and sniffed. "You're really not mad with me?" He blinked innocently, spidery fingers engaged with Svaðilfari's hair.

"No, no, my love, but you must never allow another to touch you. Especially not him, you must forget about _him_," Svaðilfari purposefully refused to speak his name. "You are not his, you are mine. I am your stallion, you are my mare." He planted a sneaky kiss on the tip of Loki's dark head. "My beautiful mare,"

Loki nodded and repeated. "Yes, I'm your mare," All residual negative feelings had subsided.

"You know you sort of remind me of _him_," Loki spoke dreamily. "You're as broad as he is, you're hair is as fair and you're eyes as blue." Svaðilfari allowed Loki to study his human face with both eyes and fingertips as he firmly held the trickster waist. "You're so handsome, Svaðilfari. I didn't know you could change forms!"

"Would you have preferred to be taken by a stallion? I can't imagine that would be comfortable," _You are so little…_

"No, that would…" His small, cheeky grin embellished his impish face. "Are we going to mate now?"

"Yes," Svaðilfari confirmed. "We are,"

000

They coupled more roughly than Svaðilfari had intended. It had been too long. Far too long, he realised a little too late. Loki winced and grappled Svaðilfari by the shoulders. Yet the stallion was unable to restrain his deep-seated need, nor his desire, serving to be heightened by the trickster's lingering touches. At first the younger one had rolled onto his stomach, anticipating the traditional form of animal mating, Svaðilfari had swiftly tossed him onto his back. A bewildered Loki had looked adorable. Svaðilfari smiled and leant inwards to steal a kiss. Loki turned out to be exceptionally greedy, rejoicing in what was given and then demanding more. Svaðilfari was only too happy to oblige. Loki gasped, his porcelain neck arched forward, Svaðilfari seized his throat and caressed it with his sharp lips. The mare ruptured beneath the stallion in no time.

Exhausted, the pair collapsed into each others arms and remained silently intertwined until Loki suddenly sprang upright, his hands clutching at his smooth belly. "What is it, my love?" Svaðilfari let out a stiff yawn.

Loki beamed from ear to ear. "Do you think we've managed to sire a foal?"

The stallion barked a laugh. "I see no reason why not, dearest."

"I want to have lots of foals with you, Svaðilfari." Loki settled back down into his arms.

"And you will. We will have a large family one day. There is plenty of time for that later, little one." He kissed his mare on the forehead. "Now sleep."


	5. A way to take the world by the throat

**Stop reading this and go see The Avengers immediately! **

5. A way to take the world by the throat and insist there is more to this life then we have ever imagined

Sunlight slanted through the window of his bedchamber. Lying face down, Loki turned and curled under his blankets. The bed seemed barren without the presence of another. Loki found himself staring at nothing in particular, dismayed at the emptiness of his surroundings. Heaving temples made him suddenly aware and the trickster prince jerked upright. Why had he expected to find the company of another in his bedchamber, in his bed no less? Loki scrambled to make sense of this new sensation. A loneliness that rendered him hollow.

_A dream perhaps, maybe part of the hangover? _

Loki stifled a yawn. It was then that the downward ache became apparent. He automatically pressed his knees together but gained no relief. Drawing a deep breath, Loki pressed his face deep into the pillows and closed his eyes. He knew exactly what the sensation meant.

_Damn you Thor. _

Somehow his brother was to blame. Loki resolved to blame him one way or another. The oaf had stolen his glory and once more casted him into the shadows. It hadn't been enough to let him wallow in peace either. The blunderer must have pushed one of his strumpets onto an unsuspecting Loki by means of apology. Loki scowled. Indeed that sounded like his idiot brother taking advice from his idiot friends. Of course the harlot had not lingered. Loki felt slightly bemused. Why would she? Whoever she was…

Loki flopped onto his back and gazed upwards. Did she flee the moment the deed was accomplished? Did she seek refugee with her friends? Would she reveal all the sordid details? Would his first encounter be common knowledge by midmorning? Or would she simply pretend that it had never happened? A heavy sigh. Loki felt conflicted over which scenario he preferred the most. Queasiness reached his throat. Suppose she was with his child? Loki realised he would never know. He didn't even know her name.

She was blonde. The memory seemed to ease Loki. Whiter than blonde, finer than silk…

But one way or another he would get even with Thor, the brute who had humiliated him.

As if on cue, hulking footsteps announced his brother's approach. Loki swore lowly and held his sour expression as Thor bounded into the chamber. Hefty panelled doors smacked either wall with little decorum. "And how do we fare this morning, little brother?" Thor said with a dopey grin pressed against his lips. It seemed to know more than it was letting on.

"Come to gloat I presume," Loki spoke with soft scorn.

"Gloat at your fragility?" His expression grew. "The thought had occurred to me, but then what kind of loving elder brother would that make me? But dear little Loki, if one cannot hold their ale, one should not exceed their limits!" Thor boomed ebulliently and wagged his finger theatrically.

Loki said nothing. He neatly folded his arms and continued to glare. _Enjoy yourself while you can…_

The change was instantaneous. Thor's face dropped, resembling something uneasy. With one massive palm he stroked back his golden curls. "I know I should bundle you off to bed early, but you wouldn't have it. You can me quite forceful when you want to be, you know." He smiled awkwardly. "You'll feel unwell for a while but it will pass sure enough. Think of it as character building!"

Thor allowed himself a few moments to take in his brother with messy bed hair. How sensual he looked. Pale flesh, deep black tresses, emerald green eyes, it was the first time Thor noticed the striking differences of his brother, those that made him undeniably beautiful.

"Stop staring at me you blunder head! I am not unwell; I simply wish to be left alone!" Loki hissed. Thor squirmed a little.

"Brother, what do you recall of last night?"

"Oh I remember everything," Loki curled his lip and lied meticulously. The dim-witted Thor had never been able to tell truth from lie when Loki was concerned. Often a bluff was all that was required to leak the vital information from Thor. Loki was a gifted storyteller, he would tell an embellished tale to their mother. Savouring a satisfactory smirk, Loki handed Thor the proverbial rope and waited for the oaf to do the rest.

It was a rare occasion but the thunderer somehow managed to surprise the trickster. Fumbling with his fingers as he had done as a child when caught red handed, Thor muttered something about ale and being thoroughly ashamed. It was incoherent babble as far as Loki was concerned. It was worthless. Frustration lapsed into silence. Thor seized the moment to divert the subject.

"Mother is certain that the Allfather will return to us this evening. She plans a great feast in his honour and askes we provide the centrepiece. Will you breakfast before we depart?"

"You plan on taking me hunting?" Loki retorted. "I'm in no temperament for such vigorous activities as you can plainly see. Go take those three idiots with you in my place," The trickster had no intention of leaving the comforts of his bed even at the express command of their mother.

"Loki," Thor pronounced his name gingerly. "Mother desires we do this together,"

"So? Lie to her. Who's to know if I remain? I trust you are capable of hunting a boar without my assistance!"

"Don't be like that," Thor was bordering on a pout. "I'm a terrible liar, mother has always seen right through me, unlike you…" He grumbled.

"I don't care." The trickster shifted back down into the blankets. "Close the door on your way out."

Thor made to turn away – then stopped. "What if I let you ride Svaðilfari?"

Loki stared at him. He was utterly breathless. Ride Svaðilfari? It was unthinkable! Loki couldn't explain his apprehension, he felt strangely close to Svaðilfari, like a dear friend as oppose to the master of a mere beast. It enraged him that Thor or anyone for that matter would claim dominance over the stallion. And yet the notion of spending time, even the vague prospect of being alone for a brief period with him seemed pleasant. Loki felt his ill-stomach settled. "Alright," he relented. "Just as long as you keep your word,"

Thor turned on his heels and sped away whilst darning a goofy grin from cheek to cheek.

000

The Queen took her breakfast in the peace and quiet of the anteroom adjacent her sleeping quarters. More often than not Loki would be beside her, while her husband and eldest son preferred the boisterous feasting hall. Frigga let out a sad sigh. Though it had not been that long, she missed her husband. She also missed her two young boys clinging to either side of the skirts. They seemed to bicker more as men than they ever did as children. Taking the Queen and her thoughts by surprise, Thor pounced upon her.

"Mother, we shall have the pleasure of Loki's company shortly," he declared vociferously. "He's very excited about going on a hunt together."

Frigga pursed her lips. "That doesn't sound like my little Loki. He usually prefers the library to gallivanting around the forests. I wonder what you promised him," She gave Thor a sly wink and slipped her tea.

"Alright, he wasn't thrilled per say," Thor spoke with his mouth full. "I persuaded him. I said he could ride Svaðilfari. Oh mother don't give me that look, he'll be fine! Loki is an excellent rider. You yourself used to say he must have been born with a saddle!"

Frigga dropped her shoulders indicating her disapproval. "Yes dear, a normal horse. We know so little about that creature's nature. I'd rather Loki didn't take him out of the palace grounds, not just yet. It doesn't seem safe. I don't suppose you'd reconsider?"

"Mother, he'll be fine. I'll watch over him," Thor beamed with his cheeks puffed out with food.

Trying to reassure herself with a slight smile, Frigga glanced over her meal. Boys would be boys of course. At least she should take pleasure in their new found ability to cooperate. It was a reminder to be grateful for small mercies. Still, something was bothering Thor. It was a small, almost unnoticeable change in his manner. Something buried deep. Frigga knew her son too well. He was hopeless at trying to hide anything.

"Is there something on your mind, dearest? Does something else trouble you?"

Thor garnished his teeth in what he hoped looked like a smirk. "I've been witling away some trivial matter. It's not important, be it no concern to you mother."

Frigga took a very deep breath and dared to pry a little further. "You can always speak your mind with me, Thor. There should be no secrets between a mother and her child."

Lowering his gaze, Thor spoke with hesitation. "Loki. It's regarding to Loki. I just wanted to be sure… he is my brother, in blood I mean?"

Silence crept around the breakfast table. Thor unable to face his mother for fear of what her reflection might read kept his head down. When at least she did speak, it was with a deep, clearing authority. "Dearest, Loki is your brother, in blood and in bond. You must never doubt that. Doubt leads to such deceptions," Frigga leant forwards and touched his arm gently. "Please tell me why you question this?"

Uncharacteristically awkward, Thor clenched his teeth and mumbled incoherently. The mysterious arrival of the pale skinned, dark haired Loki who bore no familial resemblance, the quiet and reserved personality that constantly shunned all things Asgardian in nature. He neglected to mention the strange and sudden attraction overcoming him, unsure of what to make of it and already painfully aware of how feeble his arguments sounded.

"Oh my dear, you were such a young child when Loki was born to us. It must have seemed like he appeared from nowhere, children can sometimes be oblivious to things they don't quite understand. Yet you did not answer my question. All of Loki is well known, what brings such reservations now?"

Thor tilted back his head and uncertainly pushed a slab of meat across his plate. A poor habit from his childhood, Thor had always been a messy eater, unlike his little brother. They were polar opposites in almost every regard. _It's as if we were from two different worlds. _

Frigga continued absently. "I assume something has brought the pair of you to blows, no doubt regarding yesterday. Thor, I know I can be harder on you at times as I know it must seem unfair to you, but as the eldest it falls to you to be the example for Loki. You must know he admires you as he does envy you. Sometimes I worry about Loki, that he praises you too hard and himself too little…"

The thunderer snorted at that. "Admire me? Envy me? How could he? Loki is the baby and he knows it! He wraps you around his finger and gets away with it! You coddle him too much, mother," Thor melodramatically stabbed at his bacon. "Loki is manipulative and cunning; in doing so he has more control than he lets on,"

"How astute of you," Frigga teased lightly.

Abruptly Loki entered the apartment; the Queen took fright and stood. She covered her mouth in disbelief. "Loki? You look so pale, do you have a sickness?"

Thor frowned and shook his head. "This is precisely what I'm talking about," He muttered low. "It's only a bloody hangover!"

Loki clapped his brother on the back and gave their mother a sheepish grin. "Well I was merely trying to keep up with you after all!"

Thor felt the stern gaze of his mother upon him. He no longer bothered to lift his eyes. It had not been that way at all, not that mother would listen to him.

Just what did he find so appealing about Loki again?

Updated – at last (yays)


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